Changing
by The anti-Fleur
Summary: Ron participates in a chess tournament, from which he gains a new perspective and an understanding of someone unexpected.


DISCLAIMER

Characters and scenes belong to J.K. Rowling. The idea of a chess tournament is ever-so-slightly nicked from Uzbekpilot (read his stories – they're good!).

It was early evening, and the curtain of that strange nameless colour somewhere between gold and blue and grey had descended to mask the transit between day and night. Stars were visible but astonishingly distant, so that they did not look real. The air was chill, and a light mist could be seen low over the forbidding black lake. It was not yet late enough for sleep, and the immense castle that overlooked the darkening grounds was lit up by numerous slivers of light in the narrow windows. 

Behind one such window a meeting was taking place. The atmosphere in the wizarding world was not a pleasant one, and the teachers in the large, square room were trying to devise a way to boost the students' spirits (and, perhaps, their own). 

It had originally been the idea of Rubeus Hagrid to hold some kind of event in the school, so of course he was present. The other parties were, in order of seating around the room, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout, Vector and Snape. None of the heads of houses looked particularly enthusiastic; Hagrid, on the other hand, was smiling around at everyone, and Dumbledore's face held its usual mild contentment. 

'Some sort of morale-booster, you mean?' said Minerva McGonagall wearily, for about the fifth time. 

'Yes, Minerva,' Dumbledore replied measuredly. 'The Triwizard Tournament last year was, up until its unfortunate conclusion, a great encouragement of inter-house relations, with students united in support of the Hogwarts champions; it increased students' enthusiasm and self-esteem, and above all it was merely a source of entertainment, a chance to enjoy oneself. Even Harry Potter warmed to the idea by the third task, and he was forced into it against his will.' 

Severus Snape stopped himself from making a derisive sound and instead said, 'Headmaster, the Tournament ended in tragedy and a complete breakdown in relations! Do you seriously propose a similar project?' 

'I do not intend to embark upon anything of that scale,' said Dumbledore, 'and neither do I intend to bring into the event anyone who does not attend Hogwarts, but a contest of some kind may be the best option. That is, unless you can think of a better suggestion?' 

There was no malice in Dumbledore's voice, but Snape scowled slightly, nonetheless keeping quiet. Dumbledore regarded the other teachers and, when they had established that there were no other comments, said, 'We are agreed that we will hold some kind of competition, then?' 

He waited, and one by one each person nodded. Dumbledore smiled broadly. 'Then it is settled. The next step is to decide what sort of a competition it will be.' 

The meeting descended into disorderly discussion and several suggestions were put forward. Finally Dumbledore gestured for silence, and spoke again. 'I have picked out three conceivable ideas, which are for a short story contest, a wizard chess tournament and a puzzle-solving competition – suggested by Professors McGonagall, Vector and Snape.' He smiled. 'I have, however vetoed ideas for Hippogriff racing–' he looked amusedly at Hagrid – 'and Skrewt-taming.' This time Hagrid looked around, perplexed as to why this could not be allowed. 'Shall we take a vote?' More nods. 'I see no need for formal voting slips – this can be done by a show of hands. So who would like to see a short story contest?' McGonagall's hand rose into the air alone. 'Wizard chess?' Dumbledore raised his own hand, as did Hagrid, Vector and Sprout. 'Puzzle solving?' Snape stubbornly raised his hand. 'A wizard chess tournament it is, then! I will make arrangements and let heads of houses know the details within a week.' And the meeting ended. Everyone left the room, McGonagall and Snape murmuring darkly about their own ideas, and Hagrid still wondering what was so bad about taming Skrewts. 

*****

'Checkmate!' said Ron Weasley triumphantly, as his black queen wrestled Harry's white king onto the chessboard and stomped rather unpleasantly on it. 

'Well, that wasn't necessary,' said Harry crossly to the queen, who turned her miniature blank face up to him and shook a tiny fist. He considered flicking her over, but decided that would be a bit too aggressive and instead grinned at Ron. 'Three minutes! That must be a record. Seriously, Ron, ever thought about playing competitively?' 

'I always do,' said Ron as he gathered up the books he needed for his next lesson. 

'You know what he means.' Hermione rolled her eyes as she heaved her own bag onto her shoulder. 'You _are _good, Ron.' 

'I'm not that good,' he said, blushing. 'I'm quite happy just playing for fun.' 

He wasn't so sure about this point of view when they reached the Transfiguration classroom. On a noticeboard just inside the doorway was a poster. 

HOGWARTS CHESS TOURNAMENT

STARTS MONDAY 18TH OCTOBER. ALL PARTICIPANTS MUST SUBMIT THEIR NAMES TO PROFESSOR VECTOR BY THE PREVIOUS WEDNESDAY AND AWAIT INSTRUCTIONS. PRIZE: 200 GALLEONS. 

'200 Galleons!' Ron said thoughtfully. 'Not as much as you got for the Triwizard Tournament, Harry, but it'd do!' 

'Go for it, Ron,' Hermione advised. 'You'd win easily. Who else is as good as you?' 

'Oh, let's see,' said a familiar drawling voice behind them. 'A three-month-old baby? A Flobberworm? A single-celled organism? It wouldn't be difficult to beat you, Weasley. You're just so desperate for the money you've forgotten you aren't good at anything.' 

Ron started at Malfoy and Harry began yelling at him, but Hermione grabbed Ron's collar. 'You've got an advantage here, Ron,' she hissed. 'He's never seen you play. Let him think he can beat you, then he might enter and you'll beat _him _in front of the whole school!' 

Ron thought this over briefly, half-listening to Harry and Malfoy exchanging insults, then smiled. 'You're right, Malfoy,' he said evenly. Malfoy's jaw dropped. 'Yeah, you could probably beat me, why not go in for it? I mean, as you're such a chess master, you'll easily win the prize money, won't you?' 

Malfoy obviously didn't know what to think. He narrowed his eyes at Ron. 'You just tread carefully, Weasley, or you might regret it,' he said in a low voice, as McGonagall had just entered the room, and stalked away, Crabbe and Goyle materialising by him. 

'What was that about?' asked Harry as the lesson began. Ron filled him in, and they grinned. 'Wouldn't you just love to see Malfoy's face when you beat him?' 

'You _will_, Ron, if you enter,' said Hermione seriously. 'I've got Arithmancy next, want me to give Professor Vector your name?' 

Ron paused. Was he really that good? His friends seemed to think he was… but then they were his friends, they had to say that. The thought of the prize money, though, and of beating Malfoy… 'Yeah,' he said, scribbling _Ron Weasley, Gryffindor _on a sliver of parchment and handing it to Hermione. 'Give that in for me, Hermione?' 

Three days later, everyone was refusing to play Ron at wizard chess, because he kept beating them. 'I need practice!' he would say in a plaintive sort of voice, but he had exhausted all prospective opponents. 'How am I going to win the tournament if no one will play me?' 

'Ron, you're obviously good enough,' said Harry, 'that's why no one wants you to beat them again. It's just a bit too humiliating.' 

It was true. Ron had so far beaten Harry eight times, Hermione six, Hagrid three, Dean four, Seamus two, George once (Fred flatly refused to play) and Neville sixteen times. Ron himself was beginning to get a bit bored with winning so easily. Exploding Snap was fast becoming the game of choice in Gryffindor Tower. _Well, at least the people that enter the tournament will give me a good match_, he thought as he failed to do his Divination homework. 

More information about the contest came a few days after he had stopped playing altogether. Hermione returned from Arithmancy with a sheet of parchment for Ron, which he read with interest. 

__

Hogwarts Chess Tournament Schedule

Competitor: Ronald Weasley

Matches to take place on Monday 18th October: 

Lizzie Biddleswick vs. Terry Boot 

Mandy Brocklehurst vs. Siraj Gadash 

Andromeda Green vs. Ambala Higgins 

Casper Johnson vs. Ursula Leverett 

Graham Lock vs. Draco Malfoy 

Matches to take place on Tuesday 19th October: 

Lucas Marshall vs. Ella McNamara

Annika Patton vs. Anna Piggott

Orla Quirke vs. Isabella Ricci

Alicia Spinnet vs. Anthony Tribble

Ron Weasley vs. Christopher Whist

__

Competitors with matches on Monday must be in the Charms classroom at 8pm on that day. Tuesday competitors must be in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom at 7pm on that day. Each competitor may bring a maximum of ten supporters. 

'Tuesday,' Ron said aloud. 'Today's Friday, so I've got the weekend to practice.' He beamed at Harry and Hermione. 'Who wants to go first?' 

*****

It was the evening before Ron's first match. He didn't know the boy he was going to face, Christopher Whist, something he was quite glad about as it was difficult to play your best against someone you cared for. Ron had beaten Harry and Hermione a further twelve times each – once Hermione thought she was close to winning, until Ron made a truly spectacular move with a very brave rook and thrashed her yet again. Ron was nervous, having never done anything in front of an audience before. 

However, all this seemed to disperse by the following evening and he felt quite confident, flanked by ten chatting Gryffindors en route to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The classroom had been cleared magically, with the desks piled into a neat pyramid against the furthest wall, and five little tables had been set out around the room with one chair on either side. The names of the competitors hovered in gold ribbon-like letters above the appropriate seats. Ron headed for his and sat down. 

Only two other competitors had arrived at this point. Ella McNamara and Annika Patton were both third-year Ravenclaws and were hovering in a corner, looking anxious. They had brought a large cluster of friends with them but did not yet seem ready to play. 

People arrived in dribs and drabs, and soon the room was teeming. Professor Vector, at the front of the classroom, said, 'Competitors to their seats!' Ron's opponent, Christopher Whist, was a broad, blond-haired sixth-year Ravenclaw who Ron recognised but would not previously have been able to name. They smiled edgily at each other before taking in the shining new chess set that was placed before them. 

Ron knew it was necessary to use new chessmen, otherwise one player would have an advantage. Nevertheless he would have felt far more comfortable using his own battered, familiar set. At least it was the same for Christopher Whist. 

'Competitors, we will begin shortly,' called Professor Vector. 'May I remind you that cheating will result in immediate disqualification from the tournament, and of course a forfeit of the match. This tournament operates by process of elimination; the winners of tonight's matches will be pitted against yesterday's winners, and those who lose will be out of the contest. I wish the best of luck to all of you. You may commence your matches.' 

Ron played white, so went first, taking the conventional option of ordering a pawn two spaces forward. Christopher took his time considering his first move, before doing the same thing. A few more moves each, and Ron was able to take one of Christopher's pawns, and another shortly later. After this he realised he had left his knight in a vulnerable position, but fortunately Christopher did not spot this. Ron had to allow a capture of his rook, but he was then able to take two more pawns and an opposing knight, with little loss to his chessmen. 

The match progressed gradually, Ron clearly with the upper hand throughout. He captured most of Christopher's pieces, but was unable to checkmate him for some time and they were forced to play a tedious check-uncheck pattern for a few minutes. Finally Christopher made a weak move and Ron's queen stepped forward to claim the win. 

Their match was third to finish, and all competitors had to wait quietly for the end of the other games. Finally everyone was finished, and Ron shook hands with Christopher before rushing over to bask in Harry and Hermione's congratulations. 

Ron had to wait a few more days for news of his next match, and was slightly dismayed to find that he would be facing Alicia Spinnet. He had played her before, and knew he would probably beat her, so he didn't have any strong worries about getting to the next round, but he would have preferred to play against another stranger. 

His second match was to take place under very similar circumstances to the first, and time passed very quickly. Before long Ron was sitting at a small table, facing a gleaming set of chess pieces and, above them, Alicia Spinnet's slightly nervous face. 

The match was fairly quick. Ron didn't feel comfortable beating Alicia as conclusively as he could have, so he let her take a few of his pieces before making a crafty checkmate at the end. They shook hands and the stage was finished. 

The next part of the tournament, Ron soon learned, was a complicated one in which each of the five remaining competitors would face each other, and the results would be tabled. The two highest scorers would play each other in the final. Aside from Ron, Draco Malfoy was still in the running, as were two girls – Andromeda Green, from Slytherin, and Orla Quirke, from Ravenclaw – and a Ravenclaw boy, Siraj Gadash. Although he didn't know the other three, Ron was extremely apprehensive of facing Malfoy – whatever else you might say about him, he wasn't stupid, and he would be sure to work out some clever way of cheating and not being found out. 

But, to Ron's surprise, the match with Malfoy (his first in the third stage of the tournament) passed without incident. Malfoy was a skilled player, but Ron was inevitably more skilled and won without too much trouble. He was too shocked to celebrate very much at first, but the other Gryffindors were extremely pleased with him and Fred and George in particular partied quite enough for the three of them. 

Something else was strange, and that was the fact that beating Malfoy didn't feel quite as good as he'd thought it would. Maybe it was because Malfoy could easily still be in the tournament. Anyway, Ron didn't feel triumph – he was pleased, but not _that _pleased. 

The days passed and so did Ron's opponents. He faced Orla Quirke, a pretty blonde girl who was amazingly cheerful about Ron's complete thrashing of her; Andromeda Green, a striking black-haired girl who smiled rarely and put up a good fight before being trapped into a corner by Ron's queen; and Siraj Gadash, an Asian boy with huge brown eyes who provided Ron with more of a challenge than anyone else. But Ron was surprised by his own skill and beat Siraj too, after a long and exciting match. 

The results were tabled and, as Ron had suspected would happen, he and Malfoy were the highest scorers. By rights, Siraj Gadash should have come second, but he made some very silly mistakes when playing Orla, and Malfoy managed a very tricky checkmate over him, so his luck just wasn't there. And, Ron thought with a frown, somebody seemed to just want to make him and Malfoy face each other as often as possible. It was torture, it really was. 

'I only hope it's as easy as the last match,' Ron groaned as they did their Transfiguration homework one Wednesday night. The final chess match was to take place in just under a week, and Ron was resting his skills (not through choice – everyone was still refusing to play him). 

'It won't be,' said Harry darkly, closing 'Toothpicks to Tyrannosaurs: An Introduction to Advanced Transfiguration' with a snap. 'Nothing's _easy_ this year. An Introduction! They could have warned us. I swear we've missed out a book, the jump was so big…' 

Harry continued to rant about Transfiguration while Hermione reassured Ron rather ineffectively. 'What can he do, really?' she said. 'Teachers are everywhere.' But Ron couldn't help thinking that there were teachers all over Hogwarts, all the time, and Malfoy still got away with an awful lot. 

Something happened the following Monday that completely changed the way Ron thought about things. He was on his way to a Divination class when he caught sight of a piece of parchment in the corridor, flapping about on the ground. It was grubby from being stepped on, but it had writing on it, so Ron picked it up. It read: 

__

Draco, 

As we had feared, your father and I have been dismissed by the Ministry. They have told us we are not trustworthy, having failed to prove our detachment from the Death Eaters, and 'let us go' with a small wage packet and nothing else. Therefore we will have to leave the manor. You will not return to the same place next summer, nor will Peters pick you up from the station, and we may need to let go of some of your things. Your father and I thought we should warn you of the changes that will be taking place. If we hear any more news we will let you know. 

Mother

As soon as he had realised the subject matter, Ron had known he should stop reading, but he couldn't. So Malfoy's parents had lost their jobs, and their house too… it would have been poetic justice, had Ron not known how terrible it could be to be poor. And to go from such riches to that situation would be a lot worse. Not even that, though, but the cold, abrupt tone of the letter shocked him. No affection, just facts, delivered as though it was a professional letter between departments of the Ministry of Magic. And Malfoy was _poor_. It was a distinctly odd idea, and one that Ron was not entirely comfortable with. 

Another thought, one that came soon after, was what to do with the letter. Ron didn't want Malfoy to know he had read it – he had obviously thrown it away for a good reason. Although he could have been more careful. Eventually Ron put it in the bin outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts room, having kept it in his bag and worried about it for a while. And then the thought of the chess tournament… and the prize of 200 Galleons… Ron could really use that money. And now… so could Malfoy. 

Ron had a night to muse over it, and that was what he did. By Tuesday morning, he had come to a decision, and by Tuesday evening he was sure of it. He entered the empty Charms classroom earlier than everyone else, and sat down at the little table to think. 

He barely noticed as the room filled with people. It was an important event, though it had not gained nearly the amount of spectators as the Triwizard Tournament of the previous year. Dumbledore's idea of a morale-booster had worked, in a way, even if only for about a quarter of the pupils. 

The match began – much too soon for Ron's liking. He tried not to look at his opponent as they played. An early capture of Malfoy's rook and two pawns, then the loss of three pawns of his own; loss of a knight; loss of a fourth pawn… he took Malfoy's other rook and a bishop, but lost his second knight. And then the two queens were very close to their opposing kings… Ron put Malfoy's king in check, and Malfoy's queen came forward and took his; and then the queen and a knight trapped Ron's king and the match was finished. 

Malfoy didn't gloat nearly as much as he should have. In fact, he accepted the prize money and a framed certificate without so much as a smile. But Ron didn't notice this; he was gone, vanished into the depths of Gryffindor tower before anyone could catch up with him. 

It wasn't until the next morning that Harry and Hermione saw him, still looking determined but upset. Hermione wasted no time in saying, 'You let him win, didn't you? You great prat! Why did you do it?' 

'Of course I didn't,' said Ron, and as he had never been a very good liar, he promptly went bright red. 

'Ron, the whole point of entering this tournament was to beat Malfoy!' Harry said, exasperated. 

He had not been at all prepared for Ron's reaction. Ron was more than six feet tall and towered over Harry, even when he was walking with his usual awkward stoop. But now he was drawn up, his arms rigid at his sides, his fists clenched, and the expression on his face was not like any Harry had ever seen before in his best friend. It was as though several emotions were fighting for dominance, and the result was a curious mix of anger, sadness, bitterness, confusion… 

'Was it?' hissed Ron. 'Why does everything have to be about that? You're quite all right hating him, aren't you, because he fits quite nicely into the bad guy role. He's your enemy. Why don't you fight your own battles for a change?' 

Harry was afraid that Ron was going to hit him, but instead he turned away again and stomped off, leaving Harry and Hermione to exchange concerned and bewildered looks. 

Ron had barely gone ten metres down the corridor before he bumped into Professor Vector. He muttered, 'Sorry,' and attempted to keep walking, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

'Ron Weasley? Your opponent from yesterday, Draco Malfoy, has requested a rematch. He seemed to think something was amiss in your game.' 

She waited for Ron to say something. Eventually he made a non-committal sound. Vector sighed. 

'Well, do you agree to a rematch or not?' 

Ron looked at her, dumbfounded, then walked away as fast as he could, ignoring the teacher's shouts behind him. 

It did not take him long to find Malfoy. Ron was supposed to be heading for a Charms lesson right now, but it was not a priority for him and it completely left his mind when he caught sight of the familiar silvery-blond head bent over a book in the library. 

'Malfoy,' he said shortly as he approached. 

'Weasley,' said Malfoy coldly as he turned around. 'Got a problem?' 

'Did you ask Professor Vector for a rematch?' 

'Yes.' Malfoy was defensive now. 

'What the hell did you do that for?' 

Malfoy sighed, and Ron saw a shiver of pain pass over his normally aloof features. Suddenly he wished he hadn't asked. 

'I know you've seen the letter.' 

'What – letter?' Ron felt himself blush again, and cursed it silently. Why couldn't he lie like other people?

'Don't be thick,' said Malfoy, 'you know what I mean. I saw you put it in the bin outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. I saw my mother's signature at the bottom. It was a bit stupid of me to just throw it anywhere, I suppose, but did you really have to read the whole thing?' 

'I… didn't…' _Give it up_, a voice told him. 'OK. Say I did see the letter. What does that have to do with you winning?' 

Malfoy regarded him as though he was speaking to someone extremely stupid. 'You – let – me – win. I don't appreciate it. I don't need pity from you, of all people.' 

Ron considered denying the whole thing, but judging from his previous attempts at falsehood it probably wouldn't work. 'It's not pity,' he said slowly. 'I know what it's like, that's all.' 

'As if you could know anything about me,' scoffed Malfoy. 'I don't _care_ what you think, Weasley, and I couldn't care less about your little charity crusade. I don't like being _pitied_. I want the match to be fair, and I don't need help from anyone, least of all you.' 

Ron opened his mouth to try and protest again, but Malfoy was already packing up his things. Evidently, Ron had a decision to make. And like last time, it didn't take him long. 

The rematch was eventually scheduled for the following Saturday, and it had gained a lot of publicity. People were curious to see what they had been assured would be a very exciting match, and even those who didn't understand chess were talking about it. The fact that it was being replayed was enough to activate gossip, and by Friday night everyone was hearing all manner of bizarre stories. 

Everyone except Ron, that is. Ever since his outburst at Harry and the subsequent confrontation with Malfoy, he had spent all of his time outside lessons shut up in Gryffindor tower. He felt that talking to anyone would force him to think about things, and if he was going to play his best – the best he had ever played – he couldn't afford to let things intrude. 

And then, all too soon, the day of the _final_ final match was upon him. Ron made his way to the classroom and sat down in much the same dreamlike state he had been in the last time he had played against Malfoy, but as soon as the match began his mind was clear. This time he was going to win. 

Malfoy was not looking at him as they made a few wary preliminary moves. Nothing too risky… there was a lot hanging over them both. Ron allowed Malfoy to capture his knight with his queen, but Malfoy didn't notice that this left a gaping hole in his defence and lost a rook and a bishop in close sequence. A few minor captures later and Ron had a clear advantage – Malfoy's pieces were all engaged in protecting other pieces and there were very few moves he could safely make. Ron moved in for the kill, and took Malfoy's queen very quickly. The spectators, most of whom had hurriedly learned the rules of chess in preparation for the event, muttered to one another, except Harry and Hermione who were looking eagerly at Ron. They were a fairly small group, chess not being the world's most exciting thing to watch, but those who had come looked just as keen as Harry and Hermione. 

Ron was way ahead, but was now in a tricky position because his own queen was in jeopardy. Luckily Malfoy was not as skilled as he was and did not spot the moves he could have made, instead choosing to take a couple of Ron's pawns, and later a bishop. But it was to no avail. Ron was too quick, and countered every move that posed a real threat. Finally there were only a few pieces left on the board – most Ron's. He moved a knight, then his queen, then a rook, and won. 

Harry and Hermione led the cheering. The atmosphere which had built up, especially since the controversial scheduling of the rematch, broke that evening. Ron sneaked a glance at Malfoy as they were leaving, and the pale boy sneered at him. 'What are you looking at, Weasley? You just got lucky, you know.' 

Ron looked at Malfoy for a moment longer – just long enough for him to be sure that they both knew that statement wasn't true. But Malfoy had to act normally. Most of the old arrogance and defiance was still there. But not all of it. Ron felt that he understood Malfoy better than he ever had that day.

It was a tough job for the teachers to get everyone to be quiet and go to sleep that night. The party in Gryffindor house, organised by a smug Fred and George, continued into the small hours. For once, Ron was grateful of it. It was nothing to do with Quidditch, nothing to do with any of Harry's accomplishments – it was for him, and he had earned it. 

Had he not seen a glimpse of Malfoy's real strength today, Ron would have felt sorry for him. But he knew he'd cope with everything that was coming his way pretty well, and also wouldn't welcome any sympathy offered to him. Yes, as far as everyone else was concerned, nothing had changed. 

But everything had changed in Ron, and he slept that night feeling like a different person, a better person, for achieving something of his own and for knowing that good and bad were not so easy to define. Changes, maybe, weren't so bad.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

1. This story is too long, because I wrote it all in one go while I couldn't get online. Sorry about that. If I have time I might put it into chapters. 

2. The last paragraph is quite cheesy, I know, because I'm very bad at endings. 

3. The subject matter is not the most riveting that has ever been posted. It's not easy to write suspenseful sequences about chess though! I just wanted Ron to get some glory, and this was the obvious way to go. And I didn't want Draco to just change his whole personality – I like to think it is Ron that changed, not Draco. Ron can just see Draco's life more clearly now. 

Please give constructive criticism because I haven't written anything for a while and I need to know that this isn't totally awful. 


End file.
